


tell me you don't

by a_gay_poster



Category: Naruto
Genre: Heavy Conversations, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 18:16:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18103823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_gay_poster/pseuds/a_gay_poster
Summary: Prompt: "go on. tell me you don’t love me."Words are hard. Some words are harder than others.





	tell me you don't

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ContrEeri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContrEeri/gifts).



Lee laughed like a free man, his head tipped back and his throat exposed. The fireworks of the midsummer festival burst in the sky over the river, but Gaara was watching Lee. The dappled light reflected on Lee’s face and wreathed him in gold. Hair clung to his forehead in the humid air and the neck of his thin green yukata was open. Gaara stared: here, the strong line of his clavicle; here, a line of sweat trailing down a defined pectoral; here, flecks of light on his brow. 

Lee turned to Gaara and smiled, his teeth straight and white and beautiful. His eyes sparkled. 

_I love him,_ Gaara thought, not for the first time. 

“I l-” Gaara started to say. The words stuck in his throat. He coughed, doubts crowding his mind like a miasma. _Loving something is the surest way to lose it,_ hissed the voice that sounded suspiciously like his younger self. _You’re not deserving of love. No matter how many times he tells you, he can’t really mean it. Who could love a monster like you?_

“What was that?” Lee asked, still smiling. 

Gaara brought up a hand and pressed it over his eye until he saw stars, blurry and disorienting - phosphenes in one eye, fireworks in the other. His fingers traced the raised edges of his scar. He picked at it with a fingernail, willing the word to come off his skin. His heart throbbed like an open wound in his chest. He was sure that if he opened his yukata right now, he would see it there under the skin, poisoned black, the rotting pith carved out of him where his ability to love should be. 

“Gaara, are you all right?”

Gaara dropped the takoyaki Lee had bought him and let it roll into the dirt. 

“I have to go,” he said, and let himself be consumed by his sand.

* * *

Hours later, Gaara watched from the branches of a tree as Lee walked around his favorite training field. 

“I know you’re here somewhere,” he called. “You’re pretty sneaky, but that much chakra is hard to hide. Come on out so I can talk to you.”

Gaara dropped from the tree, scattered leaves falling with him. He crushed a twig underfoot, its thin branches snapping like brittle bones.

“There you are!” Lee cried, rushing over. “I saw your Third Eye following me around the village, so at least I knew you were okay, but you had me worried.”

Gaara didn’t respond. 

“ _Are_ you okay?” Lee pressed, his expression concerned. 

“I can’t say it,” Gaara choked out. “You deserve someone who can- someone who can express themselves right. Someone who can tell you how much they care about you.”

Lee paused for a moment, frowning.

“Are you talking about the love thing?”

The word hit Gaara like a punch to the gut, grabbed his throat and threw him to the ground. He nodded, minutely. 

“Gaara,” Lee said, “it’s not a big deal! You show me you care about me in so many other ways. It’s just a word, it doesn’t mean that much in the grand scheme of things.” He reached out and took Gaara’s hands between his own, his large hands eclipsing Gaara’s entirely. 

Gaara cracked. His breath stuttered out of him. Tears built up in the corner of his eyes and spilled over onto his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I should leave. You deserve someone who isn’t- isn’t _broken_.”

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” Lee shushed him. He let go of Gaara’s hands and swept him up in a hug, crushing him to his chest. The pressure was stifling but comforting, like being wrapped in a heavy blanket on a cold night. “You’re not broken. I love you, okay?”

Gaara nodded wetly.

“And you love me, too, even if you can’t quite say the words yet,” Lee continued.

“But I can’t _say_ it,” Gaara hissed. “How can you know it if I can’t say it?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Lee stepped back, taking Gaara by the shoulders and holding him at arms’ length. His big, expressive eyes scanned Gaara’s face, radiating concern and care. “Here, I’ll show you. Go on. Right here, right now. Tell me you _don’t_ love me. If you don’t, then you can leave. I won’t fight it; I’ll let you go.” Lee’s words sounded confident and sure, his shoulders square and his smile wide. 

Still, Gaara hesitated. His lip wobbled; his throat went dry. He stared at Lee: his open expression, the set line of his jaw, his ramrod straight posture. He opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head.

“I can’t,” he said.

“Exactly! I knew you wouldn’t. Because you _do_ love me.” Lee gathered Gaara back to his chest, squeezing him all the more tightly. 

Gaara brought his arms up and squeezed him back. Lee nosed into his hair and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“I love you so much,” Lee said. 

_I love you, too,_ Gaara thought, as loudly as he could. 

Lee laughed, the sound of it ricocheting around the clearing. 

“You know, the festival is still going on. Do you want some more takoyaki?”

Gaara shook his head, his nose rubbing against Lee’s chest. 

“No, I’d rather stay here with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested in having a prompt fill written for you, [you can prompt me here!](https://ghoste-catte.tumblr.com/tagged/prompt-meme)


End file.
